


Mistletoe Mischief

by JBankai89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Allergies, Christmas, Christmas Themed, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Marauders era, Pining, Play Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 13:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBankai89/pseuds/JBankai89
Summary: Sirius has decided to try and woo Remus by decorating Gryffindor Tower with mistletoe, in the hopes of catching Remus beneath it for their first kiss. However, his harebrained plan comes with an unfortunate side effect that he did not expect.





	Mistletoe Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'll wait while you guys all die of shock over the fact that I've written a smut-free fic. Happy Holidays, everyone please enjoy this tooth-rotting fluff! :3

Mistletoe Mischief

 

“Need another tissue, Remus?” Sirius asked, and Remus, red-faced, glared at him.

“Thag you,” he said grumpily, his stuffy nose making his voice adorable and muffled, while Sirius held out the box to him, and Remus accepted one.

Remus blew his nose with a loud, elephantine _HONK!_ And James snorted, making Remus glare at him as well.

“Are you sure you're not ill, Remus?” James asked, waving his wand with no subtlety whatsoever as he cast a sanitization spell on himself. “I'll not get ill _right_ before the hols, thank you.”

“I'b nod ill,” he replied crossly as he blew his nose again. “Pobfrey checked me ober already. She gabe me Pebber-Ub, bud id didn't helb. She said it was an allergy.”

“Allergy? Against what?” Sirius asked, leaning over the common room armchair a little, and James rolled his eyes at him pointedly as though to say, _you know exactly what_ , which Sirius ignored.

“I dunno,” Remus replied, and blew his nose again. “Bud it bakes sense. I cad't breathe through my dose, and I habe idchy eyes...”

“Cats?” Sirius asked, “shellfish, peanut butter, house elves?”

“People aren't allergic to house elves,” James scoffed. “Besides, this only started when—”

Sirius glared, and made a slicing motion at his neck, and James's mouth snapped shut. At the same moment, Remus glared at Sirius suspiciously, which would have been almost scary, had it not been for his red, puffy eyes.

“Sirius?” Remus asked, “Whad did you do?”

“Nothing!” Sirius cried in protest, and Remus glared at him again while he continued to sniffle. “Really, I didn't do anything.”

 _Except put mistletoe up all over the common room,_ Sirius thought, _but whoever heard of someone being allergic to mistletoe?_

That definitely had nothing to do with Remus's allergy.

“Maybe you're allergic to Abbey Newton's weasel,” James said a little too loudly, and the third-year shot James a glare from across the space.

“It's a _ferret!_ ” she cried, making the three boys snort, and Remus, once again, sounded as though he might be dying as his laugh came out oddly like a snorting hack, instead of his usual warm chuckle.

“I gibe ub,” Remus said with a dramatic groan. “I'b goidg to take an andihidtabine, ad go to bed. Hobefully I wod't wake Wordtail widh all by sdeezing. Gooddight.”

Without another word, Remus got up and shuffled up the boy's staircase.

“What the hell's an...andihidtabine?” James asked in a stage-whisper, which made Sirius huff a soft laugh.

“I think he meant _antihistamine_ ,” Sirius said, though this explanation did not lift James's bemused expression. “It's a muggle drug his mum sent him. He told me that it's supposed to help with allergies, but makes you sleepy, too. When Remus first got it, he said that he wouldn't be able to sneeze if he was unconscious.”

“Oh, that sounds very reassuring,” James retorted, rolling his eyes. “Think he'll still... _you know_...atthetimeofthemonth...if he slips into a coma?”

“James, have you even _heard_ of tact?”

“Hi, I'm pot, meet kettle,” James shot back, grinning, though it fell a bit as he glanced around the common room, his expression wavering between amusement and concern. “But seriously...this only started _after_ you decorated the common room with about a kilo of mistletoe. Are you _sure_ that that has nothing to do with Remus's weird allergic reaction?”

“Of course it doesn't,” Sirius retorted defensively, crossing his arms, while James rolled his eyes at his reaction. “It's probably something to do with the weather.”

“Yeah, okay,” James said in a tone that made it clear that James didn't believe him, but thankfully, he let it go.

 

~*~

 

The next day, Remus didn't seem any better. He got the all-clear from Pomfrey to sleep off whatever was ailing him, while the others went to their lessons.

“What're your holiday plans, Padfoot?” James asked as they walked. “Gonna pop by the family estate?”

“Yeah, if I did that my dad would probably hex me on sight,” Sirius retorted, and laughed. “You, Wormtail?”

“Going to my mum's, as usual,” he said, flushing with excitement for being included in their talk. “My dad's place isn't even fit for a _rat_.”

The trio laughed at Peter's remark, slowing to a stop outside the Transfiguration classroom as James added, “but I meant _my_ estate. You know, the one Lily still refuses to visit.”

“She also still refuses to talk to you,” Sirius pointed out with a small smirk, and James promptly thumped him on the shoulder.

 

The morning was much of the same, of lessons and halfhearted barbs thrown at each other. Sirius had asked, multiple times, if either of them thought that Remus would show up at the table for lunch, and neither James nor Peter gave him much of an answer beyond a non-committal shrug. At that point, Sirius decided that if Remus wasn't at the lunch table, he'd spend the break in Gryffindor Tower, instead of with his so-called _friends_.

Predictably, the Gryffindor table was devoid of Sirius's favourite werewolf. After he pilfered a few roast beef sandwiches and a flagon of pumpkin juice from the spread of proffered foods, he hurried back to the Tower to check on Remus.

Sirius let himself into their sixth-year dormitory with a lot of clattering and cursing as he tripped over Peter's winter boots, though his frustration immediately faded when he heard Remus's sniffly laughter emanating from his bed.

“For a supposed aristocrat you're dead clumsy, Padfoot,” he remarked, arching a brow at Sirius, who rolled his eyes.

“Just because my family _thinks_ they're better than everyone else doesn't make it true,” he retorted as he stepped over to the bed. “And clumsiness isn't really a factor with how pure your blood is.”

“Hmm,” Remus said in a non-reply, stretching out in the bed a bit, while he eyed Sirius's hands. “What've you got there, Padfoot?”

Sirius loved that tickle of pleasure that rushed through him at the way Remus said his nickname— _Padfoot_. Something about how it sounded made him feel giddy, and so much more alive.

“Er, sandwiches,” Sirius replied awkwardly as he stepped over to Remus's bed, and sat down on the edge while Remus sat up. His nose was red and shiny, and his eyes were bloodshot, but overall he did look marginally better. “You look like you're feeling a bit better, by the way.”

“Yeah,” Remus agreed while Sirius held out the sandwiches, and he accepted one gladly. “It's odd, whenever I go down into the common room, my symptoms get worse, but when I'm up here it's not so bad...maybe I'm allergic to one of the girls' perfume or something...”

“Maybe,” Sirius agreed, his stomach beginning to twist with guilt. _Had_ he actually been the cause of Remus's ongoing issues? That would be _horrible._ All Sirius wanted was for Remus to snog him, not to make Remus ill.

He'd been head-over-heels for his friend for the last two years, and though James knew all about it, no one else did. Up to now, he hadn't managed to figure out a way to come out, as it were, and tell Remus how he felt. The mistletoe idea was supposed to have been romantic, a sweet way for them to share their first kiss, not a method to fill Remus's head up with bogies.

“Er, Moony?”

“Hmm?” Remus glanced up, chewing his mouthful of sandwich, with mustard clinging to the corner of his mouth. “What is it, Padfoot?”

“You...er...do you...” Sirius winced as his courage failed him again as he said, “you've got mustard on your face.”

“Oh.” Remus licked his lips, and catching the bit of condiment. He let out another pitiful sniffle as he crammed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, very much in the same way that James may have. “Er, thanks...for the sandwiches, I mean.”

“I couldn't let poor Moony miss out on lunch just because he's locked away in a tower with no nose,” Sirius teased, and Remus rolled his eyes as he lightly punched his shoulder.

“Shut up, Padfoot,” Remus retorted, though despite his annoyance, Sirius could see a smile on his face. “It's _allergies._ Plus, I still have a nose, unless it wandered off since I last took a trip to the toilet.”

“But you're not even _allergic_ to anything, that's the weird part,” Sirius protested, and Remus immediately began to laugh. “What? Why are you laughing?”

“Of course I have allergies,” Remus replied. “I have exactly two.”

“You do?” Sirius asked curiously, “What are they? How come you never told us?”

“They're both related to my _little furry problem,_ ” Remus explained with a small shrug. “I figured with you and James being the brilliant toerags that you are, you'd've figured it out.”

“So, silver, and...” Sirius trailed off, wincing as he tried not to say what he supposed the other one was, though now he had an idea.

“And mistletoe,” Remus filled in. Sirius groaned, and Remus began to laugh. “What, you didn't know?”

“I've never heard that before,” Sirius protested, burying his face in his hands. _“All_ people with a _little furry problem_ are allergic to it?”

“As far as I know,” Remus replied, shrugging a little. “And you _have_ heard it before, by the way. Last year we learnt about it in Defence—when you and James spent most of your time standing in the hall for mucking about during the lesson.”

“See? Then I had a perfectly good reason for not knowing,” Sirius protested, while his insides squirmed with guilt. It was true, then—it _was_ his fault that Remus was like this. He needed to get rid of the mistletoe, and hoped that he could suffer through James's _I was right_ dance with at least a small shred of his dignity still in tact.

“Why are you so hung up about not knowing about my allerg—” Remus broke off when Sirius glanced back up, and apparently saw the answer written on his face. Remus cuffed him again, making Sirius yelp.

“What was that for?!”

“You know damn well what!” Remus shouted. “You utter _prat_ , you can't just ask me out, you need to nearly poison me first?”

“I didn't know! I'm sorry,” Sirius cried as Remus swatted him again, and tried to catch his friend's arm and stave off the attack, but that caused Remus to leap from the bed and tackle Sirius, wrestling him off the bed and to the ground as they continued to play-fight, scattering the remaining sandwiches and their fillings everywhere. They laughed wildly as they rolled around, at last coming to a stop near the end of Peter's bed, when Remus had finally managed to pin Sirius's arms above his head.

“Got you,” Remus said, smiling a little as he gazed down at Sirius, who grinned back up at him, panting a little after their impromptu romp.

“Winner and still champion,” Sirius replied, and Remus huffed a soft laugh. “I _am_ sorry about the mistletoe, Moony, I really didn't know.”

“Well, as long as you get rid of it all and never ever do it again, I _might_ find it in my heart to forgive you,” Remus retorted, leaning in a little closer. Sirius felt his breath catch. He could practically hear the addendum of _if_ in his words, but Remus never said it out loud.

“If...?” Sirius finally prompted, and the werewolf smirked.

“If I get _one_ kiss for all the pain and suffering you caused me, you berk.”

“Only one?” Sirius blurted out, and Remus laughed. His eyes were soft, his nose still a little red, but it seemed as though his allergies were finally beginning to fade, and his good humour was returning to him.

“I might be talked into more, once you get rid of all the bloody mistletoe, you complete and utter git,” Remus replied, his voice soft and breathy, and Sirius felt his heartbeat speed up as he realised one thing—

Remus liked him back.

He really, truly, shared Sirius's feelings for him.

Uncertain whether he wanted to laugh or cry at this realization, he was distracted from his indecision when Remus released his wrists, and Sirius immediately reached up to touch the other boy's cheek lightly.

“Remus...” Sirius breathed, his voice almost pleading, and he smiled, as though he knew what Sirius was asking for.

Remus leant in slowly, almost haltingly. It was less like Remus was hesitating, and more like he was verifying that Sirius really wanted this, before _at last_ he brushed a soft kiss to Sirius's lips, and Sirius felt as though he had finally found a place to call home.

 

The End

 


End file.
